1287 10 3
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I sit there reading a magazine while the woman clips my claws. From time to time I watch Kim’s face.
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128711
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papa wants to dance - the future is so bright - feel good all the time baby
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128775
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The old neighborhood, long paling in the shadow of greater Los Angeles, was reduced to two blocks in length and occupied only one side of Figueroa. It was the crumbling bastian of homes whose architecture remembered yet street-car bells clanging, watermelon farms and…
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128653
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And there on the street
Were a bunch of frantic pigeons
Picking over some discarded
Chicken bones
I mean they were really
Going to town on them
You know, frantic
Like there was no tomorrow
And then I saw it
A real sign of progress
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128631
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the Tate Modern is like a dungeon!
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128600
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An hour later, we're no closer to the tunnel. In our rental car, we're just two in a school of a thousand fish skimming the edge of the island. Go with the flow, we keep saying to each other. We're just going with the flow. …
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1286137
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I find Vermeer and Bach and feel/
for a moment a shower of my own world’s/
prismatics.
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128600
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Avant-garde morning sun floated through bay windows, the illumination cascaded and curled and descended the air ripples which emanated from the oscillating fan in the corner. Gathered on the rug the light hovered in anxious intensity. Suspended dust- jelly was…
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128621
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Michiko never telephoned Frank from Washington or Chicago.
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128621
|
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128601
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I was sitting at the barFeeling the blues after workDrinking my 64 0z pitcherOf beerBody hurting all overAnd this kid begins to talk to meAbout how drinking is killing myBrain cellsAnd of course i have heard thisShit all beforeYet i act dumb all the sameLike really? I did…
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128600
|
I ran down the list of reasons she might be calling. She could be bankrupt, having a mid-life crisis, or maybe had a terminal illness. Either way I was clueless, as I had absolutely no emotional bond with the woman I came out of.
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128600
|
Anyway, without Mr. Little, my life would have been much more difficult after my father was arrested. It was difficult enough as it was. Mr. Little was my personal hero at a time in my life when I had very few people that I could look up to. The funny
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128600
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He woke up four hours later with the second worst headache of his life. He leaned against the car door, his face against the window, and pulled the handle to open the door, but it hit the wall. He pulled himself out of the car by the top of the door frame
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128652
|
...the completeness of pleasure tantamount to the end of all process...
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128633
|
How long has this been going on? the admitting nurse asks.
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128643
|
Daylight and cold sensed as an abstract, a number in my mind. Air thin, polluted, lacking oxygen. But the Recyclers are at it again.
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128622
|
...She was my first, my only, she broke me in then brought me down. Alone now, I cycle through hundreds of variations of her image like a flip book narrating some abstract story. That’s all she is now to me, an incoherent melange of tints, saturations, an
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128655
|
Against//
the mysteries and the dark/
it illuminates and shapes
|
128641
|
She felt like she was turning into someone else, someone who appeared normal. She would be inundated with everyone else's ideas, morphing into an insipid lemming, smiling and bantering about mindless things. She wouldn't even care she had changed...
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128632
|
It was May of my senior year in college. Everybody was coasting, knowing what they were going to be doing the next year, or that they’d be doing nothing. Except for one guy, Tom.
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1286185
|
another paper saving 55er
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1286158
|
I'm standing on a toilet, trapped behind a stall. Watching Father U mop up the blood.
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128622
|
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NO3RAM7-ciU
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12851510
|
No canopic jars and fine Egyptian cotton.
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128552
|
How strangely perfect it is To see this man memorializedAn author, so I'll always cheerThough I haven't yet read his worksA secret perhaps best keptThe shame of an English major, the shame of a friendHow strangely perfect it is To read even the names paying…
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128587
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Did you really think you were going to cure cancer with that poem?
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128442
|
Imagine this: One day you are walking down the street (wearing your protective mask, of course, the cloth one you bought the other day because you liked the color and design) when, by chance, you happen upon a strange sight.
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128400
|
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128421
|
There’s an account of roasting inward, holding myself like a rock inflamed, my inward joy rotting my veins. How was I supposed to go on loving anything after you? Like a pigeon hated at home, awaiting your passionate kisses? Knowing how your classical k
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